


Like The Way I Do

by Arbryna



Series: Like The Way I Do [1]
Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: AU, Anal, Competition, Double Penetration, Episode Related, F/F, Jealousy, Other, Porn Battle, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Smut, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:46:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eternity AU in which Kahlan, not Zedd, accompanies Cara and Dahlia on their "quest" to "save Cara's son". Things get a little interesting when they've stopped to camp for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like The Way I Do

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Legend of the Seeker Porn Battle](http://lots-pornbattle.livejournal.com/). Prompts: _Cara/Dahlia, Kahlan watches_ (sorta), and _Cara/Dahlia/Kahlan, jealousy_.

Kahlan's gaze flickers back and forth between Cara and the shifty-looking Mord-Sith who claims to know of Cara's son. Something deep in her gut is screaming at her not to trust Dahlia, that this could well be a trap as Cara suggested. Yet she cannot bring herself to agree with Cara, to abandon this boy—Cara's _son_ —to whatever fate the Sisters of the Dark have planned for him, on the off chance that Dahlia is actually telling the truth.

"Zedd, go with Cara," Richard says, his eyes narrowed as he keeps them fixed on Dahlia. Kahlan's head snaps quickly to the side, her eyes widening at the suggestion. "If the Sisters of the Dark have learned new magic, she may need your help. Kahlan and I will keep following the compass."

Before Zedd can respond, Kahlan swiftly speaks up. "Richard, no. If this is a trap, Dahlia could be involved." _And probably is,_ adds a voice in the back of Kahlan's head. "And that means more Mord-Sith. Zedd would be helpless."

Richard looks from Kahlan to Zedd, who just gives him a little shrug. "She has a point," Zedd admits.

"I'll go with Cara." The words leave Kahlan's mouth almost before she thinks them. It's a sound plan, the only plan really, once she thinks about it, but it doesn't come from logic; every fiber of her being is railing against the idea of leaving Cara alone with this woman. It occurs to Kahlan that Cara never explicitly said that she trusts Dahlia, which only serves to strengthen her resolve.

"What about the prophecy?" Richard says, his voice and eyes softening as he meets Kahlan's gaze. "Kahlan, if this is a trap, the worst thing we could do is send you walking right into it."

Shooting a wary look at Cara, Kahlan reaches for Richard's arm, leading him a few paces away from the others. "Richard, I don't trust Dahlia," she says in a low voice, her eyes flicking toward the woman in question. "There's more to all of this than she's telling us."

"I thought you couldn't read her," Richard says with a pointed look.

"I can't," Kahlan admits with a sigh, bringing her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "It's just...a feeling I have. I can't explain it. I don't like the way she looks at Cara." There's something bitter in that last admission, and Kahlan herself isn't entirely sure where it comes from, other than a fierce protectiveness of her friend.

"Well, obviously there's history there," Richard says, his gaze briefly darting between Dahlia and Cara before settling back on Kahlan, "but I think Cara can take care of herself."

"And so can I," Kahlan insists. "Richard, please just trust me on this."

She won't accept any other outcome, and Richard seems to realize it. His shoulders sag as he looks earnestly into Kahlan's eyes. "I just want you to be safe," he says tenderly, reaching up to cup the side of Kahlan's face.

The familiar gesture causes a small rush of warmth to flood Kahlan's chest, and she smiles against his hand. "I will be," she assures him. "Cara and I will watch out for each other."

***

  


"Finally," Dahlia says under her breath, abandoning her pretense of sleep and pushing up off of her bedroll. The confessor is sleeping peacefully on her side, her breath slow and even. "If I had to endure another awkward attempt at polite conversation, I was seriously considering asking you to kill me and revive me when we got there."

A twig breaks under her boot as she makes her way over to where Cara is keeping watch, and she thinks she sees Kahlan shift slightly out of the corner of her eye, but when she looks closer, the woman's chest is still rising and falling steadily. Rolling her eyes, she looks away from the confessor. She's here for Cara.

Cara tenses, but doesn't look back—at Dahlia or at the confessor. "Kahlan means well."

"You're quick to defend her," Dahlia says as she comes to rest against the rock next to Cara. The bitterness in her tone is not quite concealed by surprise.

"She's a good woman," Cara says, arms crossed as she stares into the distance. "Honorable."

Dahlia cocks her head, trying to understand. "And she doesn't question your loyalties?"

Cara stiffens, her gaze lowering to the forest floor. "She has no reason to."

There's so much meaning packed into those words—probably more than Cara even realizes, but Dahlia doesn't miss a bit of it. It's been gnawing at her all day, the way Cara looks at the confessor—it's far too similar to how she used to look at Dahlia, before circumstances tore them apart.

"I'm glad you decided to come with me," Dahlia finally says, her words soft and intimate and full of far more genuine feeling than she would like. Cara has always been her paradox, her weakness and her strength.

"I came because Richard ordered me to," Cara says coldly, her voice almost too formal.

"Are you sorry you did?" Dahlia's heart pounds in her chest as the question slips from her mouth unbidden. She needs to hear the answer, almost more than she needs the breath in her lungs—she has to know if there's a way to get Cara back without resorting to Lord Rahl's plan.

When Cara finally speaks, her answer is quiet, strangled. "No."

A small smile tugs at Dahlia's lips as hope sparks to life in her chest. Her hand trembles slightly as she reaches for Cara's chin, guiding their gazes together. "Neither am I."

~

  


Kahlan's pulse races in her ears as she listens to the hushed conversation. She didn't intend to eavesdrop, but she had awoken to the sound of a snapping twig, and Dahlia had already been speaking. When Kahlan had realized that Dahlia was talking about _her_ , the temptation to listen was too great.

But now she's stuck, lying frozen in the dim firelight as she hears the creaking of leather, then soft smacking sounds that indicate that the conversation has taken a more intimate turn. Her heart seizes in her chest, an ache she scarcely knows how to identify. _Obviously there's history there,_ Richard had said. Kahlan doesn't know if he realized just how much.

She hears a soft moan—Dahlia's—then a demanding grunt—Cara. It brings a hot flush to Kahlan's cheeks, and she struggles to keep her breathing even. A loud pop indicates that the kiss has been ended forcibly, then she hears Cara's voice, husky with want.

_"Kahlan."_

~

  
Dahlia narrows her eyes, irritation coloring her voice. "What about her?"

"She's right there," Cara hisses, nodding pointedly in the direction of the fire.

"She's asleep," Dahlia says, her hands slipping down to Cara's belt. She's not going to let this opportunity pass her by. "Surely you remember how to be discreet." A sultry smile plays at her lips as she slips the buckle free.

Cara isn't quite convinced. "Dahlia-"

"Shh." Dahlia cuts her off, pressing a finger to her lips as the belt falls to the ground with a soft thud. "It's been so long, Cara." Her voice is pure silk, sliding over Cara as she slowly guides Cara back against the rock. "Would you deny us this out of some misguided sense of propriety?"

Dahlia's knee presses between Cara's legs, her hands sliding behind Cara's back to deftly work at the laces there. She lowers her head to Cara's neck, sucking and nibbling at all of the places she remembers so well, and Cara inhales sharply as Dahlia reaches the base of her throat, her teeth closing around a favorite bit of skin. Dahlia smirks into Cara's collarbone; she knows, by the way Cara's body melts ever-so-slightly against her, that she has won.

She doesn't mind in the least when Cara quickly flips their positions, pinning her with a stern glare that smolders with desire. "Surely it hasn't been so long that you've forgotten your place?"

Dahlia just smiles, surrendering herself to her mistress. It feels like coming home.

~

  
Kahlan knows she should stop listening. She should pretend to wake up, or cover her ears, or _something_ —anything but lie here and pretend to be asleep while Cara gets intimately reacquainted with her former lover. Creator knows that _actually_ falling asleep is out of the question, now. But she cannot bring herself to make a sound, to put a stop to it.

Cara would see through any attempt to lie, anyway, and what could she possibly say? "No, don't do this, because...I don't want you to"? There's no way she could explain the sharp pain that blooms in her chest when she thinks of Cara making love to someone, or the irrational desire to rip Dahlia limb from limb for daring to touch Cara.

She rolls over, under the pretense of shifting in her sleep. It's the farthest she's willing to go. That the new position provides her with a limited view of what's taking place behind that large rock is purely accidental.

~

  
Dahlia growls irritably as Cara's lips release her nipple with a wet pop, Cara's head shooting up to glance nervously to the side—despite the fact that the rock they are lying behind prevents Cara from seeing if Kahlan is even there, let alone awake.

"She just shifted in her sleep," Dahlia says with a roll of her eyes. Her fingers tangle in Cara's hair, tugging just a little too hard—the way she knows Cara likes it. "Don't stop."

Yet Cara resists. "She doesn't usually do that," she says suspiciously.

A surge of jealousy seizes in Dahlia's throat, and she has to fight to hold back the angry words that jump to her lips. She's so close to getting what she wants; it wouldn't do to pick a fight. With a frustrated sigh, Dahlia drops her elbows to the ground, sliding backward just enough to peek around the side of the rock. As expected, the confessor is soundly asleep, her eyes fluttering gently from whatever it is confessors dream about.

"She's still asleep," Dahlia says, looking back at Cara with a raised eyebrow. "Stop being so paranoid."

For a moment, Dahlia thinks Cara is going to insist on seeing for herself. It pleases her greatly when, instead, Cara takes her word for it, her shoulders relaxing as she returns to peeling the leather down Dahlia's body.

~

  
Kahlan swallows nervously, trying to calm the racing of her heart. She had been sure that Dahlia would see through her flimsy charade of sleep; after all, Kahlan may be an expert at seeing the truth in people's eyes, but she'll be the first to admit that she's a terrible liar.

From the sound of it, though, Dahlia has more pressing matters consuming her attention. Matters that are sounding increasingly...wet.

An indulgent moan carries over the fire to Kahlan's ears, unmistakably Dahlia's. _"You always were incredibly skilled with your tongue."_

Kahlan's mouth is suddenly far too dry. All the moisture in her body is retreating, collecting between her legs as the image in her mind's eye becomes clearer: Cara kneeling over Dahlia, her face buried between Dahlia's thighs. Spirits, Kahlan doesn't know how she's going to survive this.

 _"I thought we were trying to be discreet."_ Cara's voice is a low hiss, but the urgency in her tone is more arousal than concern.

_"We haven't woken her up yet. I've been watching her."_

Kahlan's heart freezes in her chest at Dahlia's words, despite the fact that Dahlia is blatantly lying. Kahlan's own eyes had slipped open, when her curiosity had grown too strong, and she can see the top half of Dahlia's head, arching back into the dirt. Dahlia's gaze has been firmly focused below her—on Cara, Kahlan assumes.

 _"I didn't know you had a thing for confessors, Dahlia,"_ Cara says mockingly. Then those lewd wet noises resume, and Kahlan's cheeks burn with a combination of embarrassment and arousal.

 _"Oh, I don't think I'm the one with that problem."_ Kahlan can hear the jealousy that drips from Dahlia's voice, her implication clear. For a moment Kahlan forgets to breathe as she waits for Cara's response, unsure of what she hopes it to be. It finally comes indirectly, as Dahlia hisses sharply in pain.

~

  
"That's my Cara," Dahlia says with an indulgent smirk. Her thigh burns where Cara's nails raked down it, angry welts visible even in the dim light.

It's not that she wants the confessor to bear witness to their activities. Dahlia couldn't care less if Kahlan were awake. She simply has a very narrow focus, one that has no room for worrying about whether they're offending the confessor's delicate sensibilities. If Kahlan _is_ awake, she clearly doesn't object, and the thought of the confessor lying there, being forced to listen as Cara reclaims what is rightfully hers gives Dahlia a perverse sort of pleasure.

Abruptly, Cara slides three fingers into her, sharp and rough like she used to, and Dahlia forgets all about their possible audience. She clutches at Cara's shoulders, dragging her back up to kiss her, to taste herself on Cara's lips as Cara thrusts into her.

Cara indulges her for a long moment, licking and biting at Dahlia's mouth, before she pulls back, hovering over Dahlia's naked form as she adds another finger. She leans back, her eyes hooded and her lips curved into a smug half-smirk as she deliberately dances around the spot that would have Dahlia trembling and bucking beneath her.

Dahlia arches and moans against Cara, feeling her desire build to heights that only Cara can take her to. Cara plays her body like no one else can—like no one else has even come close to since they were separated. Dahlia says as much, between gasps and moans, and thrills at the possessive glint in Cara's eyes as she fucks Dahlia that much harder.

Finally, Cara's fingers curl inside Dahlia, thrusting faster, finally hitting the place she's been avoiding and exploiting it for all it's worth, and Dahlia comes apart under Cara's knowing touch.

~

  
Kahlan's body is on fire as she lies there, listening and occasionally daring to peek through her eyelashes at what little she is able to see. She finds herself wondering what Cara is doing to Dahlia, how she's doing it—she wonders how it would feel to have Cara doing it to her.

There's little doubt in Kahlan's mind now that she wants Cara. She's had inklings before, suspicions that her feelings for the blonde were not quite platonic, but she's always been able to ignore it before. This, tonight, has pulled those feelings forcibly to the surface, and she cannot ignore them any longer.

A dull ache throbs between her legs, building as Dahlia's cries grow more impassioned. When Dahlia climaxes, sharply moaning Cara's name, a loud gasp escapes Kahlan's lips as a jolt of arousal shoots down her spine.

Kahlan realizes her mistake too late; Dahlia's head falls to the side, her eyes locking onto Kahlan's. She doesn't look surprised.

~

  
"I guess she wasn't asleep after all," Dahlia says dismissively, her lips curling into an amused smirk as she looks back up at Cara's stricken expression.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dahlia watches Kahlan push herself up to a sitting position, cross her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry," Kahlan breathes, with a tremor in her voice that belies her arousal. Her eyes are fixed on the rock that conceals Cara from her view. Dahlia knows the apology isn't meant for her in the slightest. "Cara, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, Kahlan," Cara calls out in a tight voice, studiously avoiding Dahlia's gaze. "Just...go to sleep."

But Kahlan looks more aroused than embarrassed, and Dahlia smirks arrogantly at her. "I don't think she's tired," Dahlia says with thinly veiled mockery. "Maybe the confessor would like to join us?"

"Dahlia!" Cara snaps, her eyes widening in alarm as she finally makes eye contact with Dahlia. A sinking feeling overwhelms Dahlia as she recognizes the naked fear in Cara's expression. It's a fear born of weakness, a weakness Dahlia had wanted so desperately not to see.

 _It's alright,_ Dahlia reassures herself. This is why she has come. Cara will come with her, willingly or not, and this weakness will be trained out of her. They will be strong together once more, as they were always meant to be.

Of course, that doesn't mean that Dahlia cannot start certain parts of Cara's training right now—if the confessor is willing to play along.

~

  
"What do you say, Confessor? Cara always has been just a little too much for one woman to handle."

Kahlan's heart pounds in her throat as she finds herself actually considering the offer. She has no interest in Dahlia, but that's not the point. The look on Dahlia's face says plainly that this is more of a challenge than an invitation. And there's something dark there, behind Dahlia's eyes; that nebulous thing that she couldn't put a name to that made her distrust Dahlia in the first place.

"It's warmer over here by the fire," she finally says, meeting Dahlia's steely gaze with one of her own.

~

  
Dahlia raises an eyebrow, turning her eyes back to Cara. She's actually impressed; she'd thought the confessor far too chaste to take her up on the challenge. Not that it matters; Dahlia has the advantage of experience, and there's no way that the Seeker's sweetheart will be able to match her when it comes to pleasing Cara. All this will prove is that Kahlan has nothing to offer Cara that Dahlia cannot give.

But there is that—the look in Cara's eyes, the hesitance. It makes Dahlia nervous, and nervous isn't a feeling Dahlia is used to. "Well, Cara? Shall we move closer to the fire, then?" Her eyes have that same hard challenge in them that she gave Kahlan.

Cara closes her eyes and swallows roughly, and for a moment Dahlia is terrified that she has made a mistake. But when they open again, they hold nothing but desire and a hint of amusement. Cara doesn't speak, just pushes herself up off of the ground and saunters around the rock.

~

  
Kahlan's breath catches suddenly as Cara steps into view, the firelight dancing over the naked contours of her body. If she hadn't been sure before, she definitely is now; she wants Cara.

"It seems you're full of surprises, Kahlan," Cara says in a low, sultry voice. Their eyes meet, and Cara cocks an eyebrow, a question plain on her face. A line is being crossed, here; one that Kahlan realizes they've been dancing around for some time now.

Kahlan opens her mouth to say something reassuring—she hasn't figured out what yet—but Dahlia appears behind Cara, sliding her hands possessively over Cara's naked hips as she molds herself to Cara's back.

~

  
"You have an unfair advantage," Dahlia says, staring pointedly at Kahlan's corset and skirt. The confessor's jacket is lying nearby, in a pile with their packs, but she is still far more clothed than Dahlia or Cara.

Kahlan pushes herself to her feet, hands slipping behind her back to begin to work at the stays of her corset. "You know I can't-" Kahlan begins, then blushes. Dahlia half-hides her victorious smirk behind Cara's bare shoulder. If the confessor can't even say the words, there's no way she'll be able to perform anywhere near adequately. "You'd die. Both of you."

Dahlia's brow tightens ever so slightly. Despite her obvious inexperience and skittishness, the confessor continues to impress Dahlia with what she manages to imply with the simplest of words. For Dahlia's part, she has no intention of touching the woman. Cara may trust the confessor, but Dahlia has very compelling reasons not to.

"I don't think there's any danger of that," Dahlia says smoothly, with only a hint of disdain. "I think we both know we're only in this for Cara."

Kahlan flushes even redder, but nods, her eyes flicking over to meet Cara's. Something appears to pass between the two, something soft and gentle. Dahlia doesn't like it. She glares peevishly at the confessor.

"Are you waiting for assistance, or did you simply forget how to undress?"

~

  
Kahlan lowers her gaze, quickly returning to the task of unfastening her corset. It's freed in a few practiced movements, and she pulls it forward, her shoulders curling in on herself as the leather falls to the ground. She wants to cover herself—she's been naked with Cara before, but bathing is an entirely different experience, and Cara is not usually watching her with that look that's somewhere between hunger and amazement.

Interestingly enough, Dahlia's gaze being added to the mix doesn't make Kahlan _more_ modest—instead, it makes her all the more determined not to be. She forces her shoulders back as she works at the laces of her skirt, and soon it joins her corset on the ground, quickly followed by her boots and undergarments. Naked, she looks defiantly back at the pair of Mord-Sith across the fire.

~

  
"Now we're all on even footing," Dahlia says with a wry smirk. As if the confessor could ever be her equal. Dahlia turns to Cara, sliding her palm over a naked hip as she pulls Cara in for a slow, lingering kiss.

When Dahlia finally pulls back, Cara looks back at Kahlan with hunger in her eyes. Her hand twitches at her side, and Dahlia has the chilling suspicion that Cara is about to actually _reach_ for the confessor, like some pathetic lover in a child's fairy tale. This is so much worse than she thought.

Narrowing her eyes, Dahlia looks away from the disturbing sight, instead pinning Kahlan with a calculating gaze. "Are you joining us or not, Confessor?"

~

  
Dahlia isn't even trying to hide her jealousy, Kahlan notes with interest. For all the woman's confidence, she certainly seems insecure of Cara's affections. _With good reason,_ Kahlan thinks, daring to let herself hope that everything she's shared with Cara has been indicative of more than mere friendship or physical attraction. Her stomach churns with anticipation; there's no going back to what they were before, but what happens next will change everything.

Swallowing nervously, Kahlan steps around the fire, running her fingertips down Cara's bare arm. Cara shivers at the touch, turns to Kahlan, reaches up to cup her face and pull her in. Their lips meet hesitantly at first, but they are both already painfully aroused, and they have held this desire at bay for longer than either will admit.

There's a musky flavor on Cara's tongue, and for a split-second Kahlan considers pulling away when she realizes that it's Dahlia she's tasting. But underneath it is the taste of Cara's mouth, and the sweet relief of finally knowing what it feels like to do this. It's everything she would have imagined, if she had ever dared to allow her mind to explore this possibility—urgent, passionate, soft and rough all at the same time.

Soon Kahlan forgets all about Dahlia's presence, lost as she is in the desperate clash of teeth and tongues. Cara's hands are buried in Kahlan's hair, pulling her ever closer, as Kahlan's hands clutch at the warm skin of Cara's hips.

~

  
Dahlia glares balefully at the two—for all the good it does, what with both of them so focused on one another. Dahlia will have to do something about that.

Carefully avoiding contact with the confessor's hands, Dahlia begins kissing and biting at Cara's back, scraping her nails along the golden skin. When she manages to pull a sharp moan from Cara's throat, she pulls back, savoring the small victory.

"Perhaps we should continue this in a more comfortable position?" The suggestion is derived more from calculation than practicality; this will at least force the two would-be lovers to separate, and give Dahlia a chance to regain some ground.  


Nonetheless, it is practical, so after some effort, Cara and Kahlan do manage to pull apart so they can all lie down by the fire. Dahlia insinuates herself at Cara's right side, counting on the fact that the confessor will not realize the advantage of the position until they are too far involved. Dahlia is perfectly capable of performing more than adequately with her left hand, but she will not refuse any advantage at this point.

Dahlia sets to work at once, sucking and nipping at Cara's throat while her fingers tug and twist at a hardened nipple. Cara's body is a map she knows well.

~

  
For a moment, Kahlan just watches Dahlia work, daunted. Dahlia seems to know exactly what to do, and Kahlan has no experience to draw from other than her own furtive explorations of herself when she has managed to steal away from camp.

Kahlan's hand shakes as she traces the curve of Cara's cheek, her lips. The skin is deceptively soft, like velvet under her fingertips.

Cara meets Kahlan's nervous gaze, her eyes dark with arousal. "Just touch me," Cara urges softly, the words trailing off into a groan as Dahlia sinks her teeth into the flesh above Cara's collarbone.

So Kahlan does. She explores Cara's body hesitantly at first, then slowly with more confidence. She's not sure who to attribute Cara's moans of pleasure to, but she's sure that not all of them are Dahlia's doing.

~

  
The confessor is being gentle. Dahlia sneers derisively at the observation. You don't fuck a Mord-Sith _gently_. As though to demonstrate her point, Dahlia bites down on the nipple in her mouth, drawing a sharp groan from Cara in response. Releasing Cara's flesh, Dahlia quirks an eyebrow at Kahlan, sliding her hand deliberately between Cara's legs. Cara's hips arch up into Dahlia's touch, and Dahlia smirks at the narrowed gaze the confessor gives her in response.

Dahlia would utilize the considerable skills of her mouth, but that would put her body far too close to the confessor's for her liking; and her agiel is several feet away, discarded with her leathers behind the rock. Her hand will have to do.

~

  
Kahlan refuses to be beaten by this shadow from Cara's past. This _is_ a competition, she realizes. It has been all along—and Kahlan is not accustomed to losing. In any case, she is not completely oblivious to the intricacies of pleasure; she is all too familiar with her own touch, and the extent of her theoretical knowledge would probably surprise most people. Confessors don't make a living confessing chaste, honorable people, after all.

It's easy enough to figure out what draws a response from Cara—and it's not always the harsher treatment of Dahlia's hands. With Dahlia occupied between Cara's legs, Kahlan strokes Cara's full breasts, drawing a nipple into her mouth and circling it with her tongue, sucking gently at the stiff peak.

Cara's hand comes up to bury itself in Kahlan's hair, but not forcefully; she just cups Kahlan's head, pushing her chest up into Kahlan's mouth as she throws her head back against the fallen leaves. For a long moment, Kahlan just stares, drinking in the almost poetic sight. She has always known that Cara is attractive, but in this moment, with the firelight caressing her golden, sweat-slick skin, Cara is truly, soul-wrenchingly beautiful.

A sharp jerk of Cara's hips pulls Kahlan from her distraction, reminding her of her purpose. She slips her hand down to tease at the coarse curls between Cara's legs, sliding through the slick evidence of Cara's arousal. Kahlan's knuckles brush inadvertently against Dahlia's wrist, and Dahlia flinches away as if burned.

Kahlan smirks, recognizing an advantage when she sees one. She doesn't give ground, claiming Cara's clit with her fingertips and stroking clumsy circles around it. With Dahlia's fingers pumping in and out of her, and Kahlan's fingers quickly finding their own rhythm, it doesn't take long for Cara to reach her first climax.

A hot surge of pride rushes through Kahlan as her own name escapes Cara's lips.

~

  
Dahlia scowls at the glaring defeat. Redoubling her efforts, she adds another finger to Cara's cunt, thrusting more forcefully. Cara has never been a one-climax woman, and Dahlia knows all the ways to make her scream.

She can tell, though, that she's continuing to lose ground. Cara has developed a shameful weakness for this confessor. Dahlia needs to remind her of all the ways she can please her that the confessor wouldn't even think of. Decision made, Dahlia pulls back to two fingers, slipping the two lowest fingers down to tease at Cara's ass.

Cara's sudden wanton moan sounds like victory.

~

  
Kahlan looks down, curious to know what Dahlia might have done to elicit such a powerful response. It takes her a moment to figure it out, and when she does, her eyes widen in shock. But Cara is definitely enjoying it, and Kahlan cannot afford to let her inexperience impede her in this. She has a strong feeling that there is more at stake here than pleasure.

Swiftly recovering from her surprise, Kahlan slides two of her own fingers down to join Dahlia's in Cara's sex. Dahlia freezes again, and Kahlan answers Dahlia's withering glare with a defiant smirk.

~

  
Dahlia should be safe enough, she thinks, if the confessor is touching Cara as well. Kahlan wouldn't risk confessing the woman they are both so enamored with. Dahlia tries to ignore the slide of Kahlan's fingers against hers, to focus on pleasing Cara, but eventually it's just too unnerving.

With an irritable huff, Dahlia slides her fingers out of Cara's cunt, abandoning it to Kahlan's attentions. Instead, she gradually adds those fingers to the two in Cara's ass, stretching the tight hole wide. Cara hisses and grunts, pleasure and pain mingling in her voice.

The next time Cara comes, there is no name on her lips, only unintelligible groans of pleasure. Dahlia takes it as a victory.

~

  
Kahlan's hair is matted to her face with sweat, and she's panting with exertion as she continues to make love to Cara. Her mouth is never idle, dropping sloppy kisses anywhere she can reach. Kahlan has lost count of how many times Cara has climaxed, and Cara still seems hungry for more, even when she finally pants out, "Stop."

The reason becomes clear when, once Dahlia has removed her hand, Cara lunges towards Kahlan, pinning her to the ground and claiming her mouth in an urgent kiss. Kahlan moans into Cara's mouth, momentarily forgetting why this is a bad idea. All she can think about is how badly she wants to be touched by Cara, to replace Dahlia's taste with her own on Cara's lips.

One of Cara's hands is firmly planted in the dirt beside Kahlan, holding her weight; the other slides down to cover one of Kahlan's breasts, kneading the soft flesh as she continues to plunder Kahlan's mouth. When Cara's finger and thumb close around an erect nipple, Kahlan gasps at both the sudden jolt of pleasure and the realization of what they are doing.

"Cara, we can't," Kahlan says throatily, pushing at Cara's shoulders even as her body arches into Cara's touch.

~

  
Dahlia rolls her eyes at the pathetic display as she pushes to her feet, sauntering over to the pile of packs. This is why the confessor has no business trying to compete with her over Cara's affections. Cara is a Mord-Sith—the giving and taking of pleasure is almost as vital to her as the giving and taking of pain, as the blood in her veins and the breath in her lungs. The confessor could never hope to be what Cara needs.

Digging around for a moment, Dahlia pulls a waterskin from the pile of belongings, rinsing her hand and wiping it dry on a rag pulled from Kahlan's pack. Her eyes never leave Cara; unfortunately, Dahlia knows her lover too well, and there is no scenario in which she can see Cara giving up her pointless desire to pleasure the confessor, which leaves it up to Dahlia to make sure that Cara does not get herself killed.

~

  
Cara doesn't relent, her mouth surging forward to suck at Kahlan's neck as her fingers draw ever more pleasure from Kahlan's breasts, and Kahlan can feel her resolve slipping with every second that Cara continues to touch her.

"Cara, please-" The plea comes out as a needy whimper, and even Kahlan is not sure if she's asking Cara to stop or keep going.

"Just tell me when you're close," Cara pants into Kahlan's collarbone, before pushing herself up to shift her position between Kahlan's thighs. "When I need to pull away."

"I—spirits, Cara," Kahlan moans, and she is lost as Cara's sex grinds down into hers. She didn't know this was even possible, had never even considered—but there's no room for thought, only the slick heat of Cara's sex on hers, the jolts of pleasure it sends shooting through her body. All too soon, she feels her release building, and shoves frantically at Cara's shoulders. She bucks her hips, to try to throw Cara off, but it only increases the contact between them, and she feels her control slip dangerously.

Then Cara is gone, suddenly, and Kahlan's hand shoots between her own legs, pushing herself the rest of the way over the edge. Cara's name spills from her lips as her magic explodes into the night air.

~

  
A sick feeling churns in Dahlia's stomach as her gaze darts between the two women panting on the ground. Cara had cut it too close—might not even have stopped at all, if Dahlia had not forcibly pulled her away—and Cara knows full well that confession is a death that Dahlia cannot bring her back from.

Dahlia thinks she might retch as she watches the confessor crawl over to Cara, collapsing in her arms. Cara doesn't shove her away, the way she should—Mord-Sith do not _cuddle_. Instead, she wraps an arm around the confessor's shoulders, murmurs something Dahlia cannot make out into Kahlan's ear before collapsing back against the ground, her eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion claims her.

This situation is far worse than Dahlia could ever have imagined. There's no doubt in her mind now: Cara will never come with her willingly. She will need to be captured, forcibly retrained—Dahlia's chest aches at the thought of causing her such pain. But traveling with the Seeker and his companions—the confessor in particular—has made Cara dangerously weak. If Dahlia doesn't save Cara from her weakness, who will?

***

  
The fork in the road—literally—comes around noon the next day. Kahlan may not know D'Hara like the back of her hand, the way she does the Midlands, but she knows enough basic geography to know that Dahlia is leading them the wrong way.

Kahlan's hand snaps out to close around Dahlia's wrist, and a vicious sort of satisfaction surges in her chest as panic flashes in Dahlia's eyes. "Eritrane is the other way," she says, her eyes boring into Dahlia's.

"The retreat is outside of Eritrane," Dahlia replies smoothly, too quickly. "There's a shortcut."

Narrowing her eyes, Kahlan takes in the unease in Dahlia's expression, the way her fingers twitch toward her agiel. "You're lying."

"You can't read a Mord-Sith," Dahlia says with a confident smirk.

Kahlan's lips curl into a grim smile as Dahlia confirms her suspicions. "I don't need my confessor power to tell me that you're not telling us something." Her hand closes around Dahlia's throat, just above her neck-guard. A dark pleasure fills Kahlan at the feel of it—she's been waiting to have Dahlia's throat in her hand since the first time she laid eyes on the woman. "Unless you want to die, I suggest you start talking."

Dahlia's eyes dart over to Cara, seeking support, but Kahlan doesn't need to follow her gaze to know that Cara will offer none. If she hadn't been sure of Cara's loyalties before, the events of last night proved it. Despite the plethora of issues they will have to face in the days to come, Kahlan knows beyond the shadow of a doubt where Cara's allegiance lies.

Something that Dahlia seems to realize as well, as finally her shoulders sag in defeat. "It was a trap," Dahlia admits grudgingly, rolling her eyes as she stubbornly avoids Kahlan's searching gaze. "Two quads of Mord-Sith are waiting half a league down that path. It was my mission to lure Cara there."

Kahlan's hand tightens reflexively around Dahlia's throat. "Why Cara?"

~

  
Dahlia scoffs bitterly. Isn't it obvious? "To bring her home," she says, her eyes desperately seeking out Cara's. But Cara refuses to look away from Kahlan; the only indication that she is even aware of Dahlia's presence is the tight clench of Cara's fist around one of her agiels. "To break her of the weakness you and the Seeker have instilled in her. To make her strong again."

"And then what?" Kahlan demands, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of Dahlia's throat. Her voice is pure cold steel, and it occurs to Dahlia that this confessor would fill the leathers of a Mord-Sith rather well. "Darken Rahl doesn't do anything without ulterior motives. What was his plan?"

"To use her to get the Stone of Tears from the Seeker," Dahlia admits. The plan is blown now, and she's not sure she even wants to go back to Lord Rahl without Cara by her side. It's always been her biggest flaw as a Mord-Sith: her devotion to Cara has always been leagues above her devotion to Lord Rahl.

"And Cara's son?"

A surge of righteous anger rises in Dahlia's chest. This confessor has no right to speak of him; she wasn't the one at Cara's side, day after day, holding back Cara's braid as she retched. The confessor wasn't there when Cara no longer fit in her leathers, and insisted on walking around the temple naked rather than don the simple shift the midwives presented to her. The confessor wasn't there when Cara's son was born, holding Cara's hand all the while despite the broken bones that took a month to heal. The confessor didn't see the brilliant smile on Cara's lips as she beheld the tiny boy, didn't have to hold Cara as she wept when they took him away. Dahlia _earned_ her place at Cara's side, and the injustice of being displaced so quickly—by a confessor, sworn enemy of all Mord-Sith—causes bitter tears to prick at her eyes. Yet she doesn't cry—she won't. She is Mord-Sith, and she will not crumble.

Raising her head, she meets Kahlan's gaze defiantly. "I don't know where he is, or even if he's alive. Lord Rahl came up with the story; my job was simply to relay it as he told it to me."

"I should kill you," Kahlan says harshly. Her hand flexes around Dahlia's neck, and Dahlia's pulse jumps traitorously.

"Mord-Sith are not afraid to die," Dahlia says, her voice full of a confidence she doesn't feel.

"If you're going to kill her, do it quickly," Cara says blandly, her eyes blank and emotionless where they meet Dahlia's. "We need to get back to Richard and Zedd."

Cara's words, the casual way in which she says them, strike Dahlia like a blow to the chest. "Cara-" Dahlia starts, a tear slipping free and sliding down her cheek. The cold indifference in Cara's eyes wounds deeper than any agiel ever could.

"Shut up," Kahlan snaps, her eyes blazing with fury. "You forfeited any right to talk to Cara when you lied to her, plotted to have her tortured."

~

  
Kahlan swallows roughly, looking over at Cara almost to reassure herself that the woman—her lover, now—is alive and whole. Cara is turned stubbornly away from Dahlia's pleading gaze, betrayal and disgust warring on her features as she stares off into the trees.

After a long, tense silence, Cara turns back to meet Kahlan's eyes. "If you let her go, she'll just run back to Rahl," Cara points out. "She'll be punished for her failure, but she'll still be one more ally in whatever idiotic plan he thinks up next." Cara swallows, her gaze dropping almost nervously. "And she won't hesitate to tell him about...last night. He'll use it against you, and Richard."

The uncertain—almost shy—way Cara peers up through her lashes at Kahlan causes a tender warmth to bloom in Kahlan's chest, and for a moment she wants to forget about Dahlia, and just pull Cara into her arms and kiss her. But they don't have time for that, now, and Kahlan shakes her head slightly to clear it. "I'm not afraid of Rahl," Kahlan sneers, mostly for Dahlia's benefit.

"She also knows where we're going to meet up with Richard," Cara adds, stepping closer and positioning herself just behind Kahlan's shoulder. It's a symbolic gesture, and Kahlan draws strength from the support it offers as Cara continues. "She may be lying about how far away her sisters are. She could still try to carry out her mission."

Dahlia has recovered her composure, and just smirks back at Kahlan, in a valiant effort to appear detached. Kahlan knows better than to believe it—and her shoulders sag as she realizes what that means. "I can't just kill her," Kahlan says regretfully, her eyes softening as they peer into Dahlia's. "She loves you, Cara. Anyone could see that. And I...I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing, in her place. If I thought it was the only way."

It's the closest they've come to discussing their feelings since the events of the previous night, and Kahlan's heart jumps into her throat as she looks back at Cara. A long, meaningful glance passes between them before Cara cocks her head. "If you take her prisoner, she'll tell Richard the first chance she gets," Cara warns.

"I'm right here, you know," Dahlia snaps, grinding her teeth. A cruel smile springs to her lips. "And Cara's right. How do you think your precious Seeker would feel about what you've done? And to hear it from a stranger, and a Mord-Sith no less?"

Kahlan closes her eyes, aching at the thought of hurting Richard. But it's inevitable, as much as it pains her to consider it. "I'm going to have to tell him eventually," she says, her voice gaining resolve as she opens her eyes again to look at Cara. "I can't lie to him. I won't."

Alarm flashing in Cara's eyes as she shakes her head. "Kahlan-"

"I'll pull him aside, before she gets a chance," Kahlan says, narrowing her eyes at Dahlia. "We can gag her if we have to. But I can't kill her in cold blood, and I won't let her go free."

Cara opens her mouth to protest again, but the firm resolve in Kahlan's face says plainly that Kahlan has made up her mind. Cara's mouth snaps shut, her cheeks sucking in as she works her jaw.

Dahlia scoffs in disgust, drawing the gazes of both women. "She really has made you weak," Dahlia spits bitterly.

"Maybe we should gag her now," Cara suggests with a sneer. "Can't be too careful."

***

  
Kahlan's heart aches at the way Richard's face lights up when he sees her. "Kahlan, we got the stone!" He exclaims happily, pulling Kahlan into his arms. "You won't believe what-" he stops abruptly as he looks over Kahlan's shoulder, seeing Dahlia bound and gagged at Cara's side. His face hardens. "What happened?"

"It's...complicated," Kahlan says, swallowing hard. She pulls out of the embrace, reaching for his hand. "I need to talk to you in private."

"Okay..." Richard trails off, confusion on his face as he glances between Kahlan and the two Mord-Sith.

Kahlan meets Cara's eyes, trying to convey some sort of reassurance, before she tugs Richard away.

~

  
The wizard watches them go with a grim understanding on his face, and Dahlia rolls her eyes. If Cara and the confessor have always been this obvious, she has no idea how it took them so long to realize what had to have been plain as day to everyone else.

"Well, it looks as though I have a captive audience," Zedd says sardonically, clapping his hands in front of him. "How would you both like to hear about our adventures with the Guardians of the Stone of Tears?"

Dahlia glances at Cara, dread creeping into her stomach. If Cara's amused smirk is any indication, this is not going to resemble fun in any way.

***

  
"So, really, when Richard came through with me, instead of Kahlan, they had no choice but to let us out," Zedd explained, chuckling. "It's not as though Richard and I could have fulfilled their little plan for humanity."

Cara scoffs, rolling her eyes. "So they actually expected Richard and Kahlan to repopulate the entire human race?" Zedd nods, his lips spread wide in a mirthful grin. "And they didn't see any problem with that?"

Dahlia cringes openly at the camaraderie apparent between Cara and the Wizard. She doesn't want to admit it, but Cara has honestly found a place with these...people. It's pathetic, disgusting, weak—it hurts.

She's almost relieved when the confessor and Seeker return. Kahlan's arms are wrapped around her ribs, her eyes rimmed with red, and Dahlia savors the small flash of pleasure that surges through her at seeing the confessor in pain.

The Seeker's jaw is clenched as tightly as his fist closed around the hilt of the Sword of Truth. He looks at Cara, briefly, his eyes full of pain, before his expression hardens and he looks steadily at Dahlia. "I guess Kahlan had good reason not to trust you," he says coldly. Dahlia can feel the anger radiating from him—the anger of a Rahl. He gestures to Cara. "Take off the gag."

Cara yanks the knot free, tugging the gag forcibly from Dahlia's mouth. Dahlia works her jaw, cruel words springing to her lips, but the Seeker cuts her off.

"You have two choices." His hand tightens around the hilt of his sword, bicep flexing with the effort to hold back his rage. "If you want, you can run back to Darken Rahl. I won't stop you."

Dahlia doesn't even try to hide her surprise. Is the Seeker really so foolish as to give strength to his enemy?

"Kahlan explained why she didn't want to let you go before," Richard continues, his voice wavering. "Since I know now, the knowledge can't be used as a weapon against me. But I think you already know what you'll be going back to. It's up to you if you want to face that."

Dahlia's had plenty of time to consider this option, on the journey back here, and it's not high on her list of things she's eager to do. "And door number two?"

"Help me."

~

  
Kahlan closes her eyes, rubbing firmly at her forehead. She'd tried to talk Richard out of this, but he wouldn't budge. Predictably, Cara and Dahlia's eyes both widen almost comically at his words.

"You can't be serious," Cara says sharply. Kahlan meets Cara's eyes, shaking her head in resignation. Cara huffs her disbelief and clear distaste for the idea, but offers no more resistance.

"The entire world of the living is at stake," Richard says, his focus fixed on Dahlia. "I assume you don't want to die."

Dahlia cocks her head, eyeing Richard curiously. "And what's to stop me from betraying you at the first opportunity?"

"Your word," Richard offers simply. "It's my understanding that Mord-Sith value honor. Am I wrong?"

~

  
Dahlia is silent for a long moment, pretending to ponder her choices. It's obvious, really; only one option allows her to remain with Cara, and in the end, that's what it comes down to. She was always meant to be by Cara's side—whether Cara wants her there or not. The Seeker _is_ a Rahl, softhearted though he may be, so she'll even technically still be fulfilling her duty as a Mord-Sith.

"Alright," she finally says, meeting his gaze steadily. "Lead the way, _Lord Rahl_."

She does not miss the uneasy glance that passes between Cara and Kahlan at her response, and a smug smirk plays at her lips; this may not be a victory, but it is far from defeat.

_This will be interesting._

  
_end._   



End file.
